While the two indulged in a tender moment within the spring waters.
“Our Boss is bathing inside; none of you are permitted to enter!”
It was the deep, resonant voices of the Toth brothers.
“I couldn’t care less who your boss is! I’m exhausted and I demand a bath and some rest today. I’ll count to three, and if you’re still foolish enough to stand in my way, I’ll personally send you straight to meet your maker!”
Such an arrogant and vicious declaration could only emanate from Quia, You’er’s formidable adversary in the East District at this juncture.
Trailing behind Quia, his throng of subordinates fixed their hungry, crimson gazes on the icy wall.
They knew precisely what they coveted: the sole woman in the East District, now behind that barrier, shedding her clothes and cleansing her soft, fair body.
The moment Quia gave the command, they would surge forward.
What could that boy, formidable as he was during the day, possibly do against such a multitude?
Each man landing a single punch would be enough to bludgeon him to death.
Yet, they had gravely miscalculated one crucial detail: You’er’s faction, too, boasted a substantial number of adherents.
“What’s all this commotion? We were here first! Quia, justice is on our side. If you’re contemplating a fight, I suggest you think very carefully indeed!”
Without the need for any rallying cry, Keane and his comrades, who had been guarding the flanks, swiftly converged.
Their hands clutched a chaotic assortment of implements—wooden clubs, iron pipes, hammers, shovels, even mops and brooms—making them appear considerably more formidable than Quia’s empty-handed contingent.
“It seems you’ve grown some audacity in merely half a day!”
Yet, these impromptu weapons offered no deterrent whatsoever against Quia.
His fierce, tiger-like glare pierced Keane, who promptly cowered behind the Toth brothers.
“I shall ask one final time: do you truly intend to obstruct my path?”
A palpable killing intent now flickered in Quia’s eyes as he fixed his gaze upon the Toth brothers.
In this desolate place, these two were perhaps the only ones he deemed worthy of a fleeting second glance, and even that was a stretch.
“Our stance remains resolute and unwavering.”
Despite their profound apprehension towards Quia, the Toth brothers possessed an undeniable resolve and a compelling reason not to yield.
The figure they protected, after all, harbored no fear of the man before them.
“How truly audacious! In this East District, to have several individuals dare defy me within a single day? It appears I must reassert my dominance!”
Quia, having exhausted his patience for further discourse, allowed a scorching aura to surge around him, poised to unleash his assault.
“Then, might I inquire, Lord Quia, where exactly do you intend to reassert this authority of yours?
For in this place, there is no space for you.”
The youth’s chilling words echoed from within the rock cavern.
Devoid of any discernible physical force, they nonetheless caused Quia’s colossal frame to involuntarily shudder.
Quia had already experienced You’er’s frigid magic, a bone-deep chill that even his own roaring flames could not repel.
Consequently, a significant wariness lingered within him regarding You’er.
Nevertheless, Quia found himself unable to relinquish the object of his fervent desire, which now stood directly before him.
His intensely predatory gaze darted to Noelle, who had emerged alongside You’er, her shoulders brushing his.
Though she was now fully clothed and cloaked, the subtle, alluring fragrance she exuded remained utterly undeniable.
He then put forth a proposition he believed to be utterly irresistible.
“Hand her over to me! In return, I shall cede half of the East District to your control! Consider this my final ultimatum!”
The moment these words were uttered, even Quia’s own subordinates registered astonishment on their faces.
“Indeed, a truly enticing proposition…”
You’er’s expression remained utterly impassive; he simply took a single step forward, effectively obstructing Quia’s line of sight.
“My apologies, but I must refuse!”
“Then, I sincerely hope you live to regret this!”
Having flung these words like a gauntlet, Quia stormed away, consumed by a tempest of rage.
Yet, before his departure, his gaze, fixed upon You’er, held the predatory glint of one who sought to devour their prey.
You’er’s brow remained furrowed until Quia was entirely out of sight.
Only then did he turn to Noelle, asking softly, “Noelle, you weren’t frightened, were you?”
‘With my husband by my side, Noelle fears nothing!’ Noelle’s fingers traced her reply.
“Yo-ho! Yo-ho!”
As the affectionate pair stood before them, Keane and his boisterous companions erupted into a chorus of whistles.
What exactly they intended to convey, You’er found himself utterly unable to decipher.
“The water is still warm; you may enter and wash yourselves,” You’er offered, before turning to depart with Noelle.
“Boss, are you truly just leaving like this?”
However, Keane, his face alight with fervent enthusiasm, quickly intercepted them.
“What else would I do?” You’er inquired, his expression utterly perplexed.
“Boss, your needs may have been satisfied, but surely you must also consider the needs of us, your humble subordinates, no?”
Keane gazed up at You’er, his eyes wide with a pathetic plea.
“Boss, just look at yourself! You’re a man, yet your physique is so remarkably delicate, so exquisitely graceful.
Therefore, I was thinking…”
****
Before Keane could even complete his thought, a resounding *CRASH* accompanied his sudden airborne trajectory.
He was sent sprawling, quite coincidentally, directly into the spring, sending a tumultuous spray of water cascading across the ground.
You’er hadn’t the faintest idea what Keane was attempting to imply, but he instinctively knew that kick was entirely deserved.
“Boss, that was incredibly unkind of you!” Keane, resurfacing from the water, wailed, tears streaming down his face.
“Enough out of you! You’ve gotten off easy and now you’re playing the victim?
If it weren’t for the Boss’s indulgence, would you even be alive to cavort around here like this?
Be grateful!”
“You brutes! Do you mean to crush our small frames into splinters of bone?!”
The Toth brothers then immediately *crashed* into the water.
Indeed, their towering frames, well over 1.9 meters in height, could only be described with such a forceful word.
Below them, Keane was utterly terrified, scrambling desperately to escape, his bladder threatening to betray him.
Swiftly following suit, the rest of the group enthusiastically shed their shirts, each showcasing their own unique ‘divine’ diving techniques.
“These rascals…”
Observing their vibrant, bustling forms, You’er experienced a fleeting moment where they seemed less like condemned prisoners and more like ordinary men, and the arena itself, no longer a place perpetually entwined with death.
****
The following day, at precisely nine o’clock, as the spectators settled into their seats in the viewing stands, You’er and his companions commenced their inaugural day of gladiatorial combat since their arrival.
Prior to this, they had been forcibly herded into the main hall by arena guards, compelled to assemble, and then unceremoniously fitted with chains and identification tags.
You’er’s identification tag bore the prominent inscription ‘Sequence 1,’ while, in a striking contrast, Noelle’s was ‘Sequence 148.’
Intriguingly, the exact number of newcomers assigned to their East District amounted to precisely 148 individuals!
This uncanny numerical coincidence instilled in You’er a subtle, unsettling premonition, though he couldn’t quite discern its origin.
You’er cast a sidelong glance at Quia and his associates, who were already squatting in their designated spots.
These men had arrived remarkably early, yet unlike You’er and his cohort, they were not bound by wrist or ankle shackles.
As ‘veterans’ of the arena, they were exempt from today’s proceedings; this particular gladiatorial ‘performance’ was reserved exclusively for the newcomers.
“Boy, the festivities are about to commence!
I eagerly anticipate the expressions that will grace your faces when you make your grand entrance!
It promises to be utterly delightful, wouldn’t you agree?”
The scene was too tumultuous and the distance too great for You’er to discern Quia’s voice, yet he could clearly make out the words from his lip movements.
These scoundrels, he realized, were undoubtedly here for the spectacle.
However, as his gaze met Quia’s, a profound gloom settled even deeper into You’er’s heart.
Noelle, standing beside him, gently squeezed his palm and wrote: ‘Don’t worry, my dear husband. Everything will turn out fine.’
“Yes, I believe it will,” You’er responded, gently squeezing Noelle’s small hand in return and offering a faint smile.
“Boss! The gladiator rules, I… I found them out!
But first… allow me to catch my breath!”
At that moment, Keane rushed over, panting heavily as he relayed the information.
“Today’s gladiatorial matches will unfold between the newly inducted participants from our four districts.”
“So, only newcomers will be participating in today’s gladiatorial contests?”
You’er pursed his lips and nodded.
This, he conceded, was somewhat good news.
After all, if only newcomers were involved, the survival chances for those behind him would be significantly higher.
Otherwise, consider the bleak alternative: if a newcomer were unlucky enough to face a ‘veteran,’ their chances of survival would plummet to near zero, would they not?
“And the relevant rules?”
As You’er posed his question, the Toth brothers and others behind them drew closer, leaning in to listen intently.
This was a matter of life and death for them, making their attention absolute.
“Each gladiatorial match is a 1v1 contest, meaning two individuals will be randomly drawn from the four districts to enter the arena and fight.”
Before Keane could finish, Veron Toth impatiently interjected.
“So, the district from which participants are drawn is entirely random?
And sometimes, if one is truly unlucky, a single district might even be drawn multiple times consecutively?”
“That’s essentially the gist of it…” Keane replied with a wry smile.
His gaze swept over each of his comrades present before he finally gritted his teeth and declared, “And the most crucial rule: a result must be determined within one hour!
Otherwise, both parties will be declared failures!
And failure, here, means death…
Everyone, I wish you good luck…”
Keane’s utterance of “good luck” was met only by a profound and prolonged silence from the assembled group.
As countless newcomers across the four districts knelt in anxious anticipation, silently counting the seconds and praying for the goddess of fortune’s benevolence, as the arena’s bell tolled, and as the announcer in the upper ring of the arena proclaimed…
The 3899th Gladiatorial Combat Festival had begun!